6 years

This time of the year is always really, really hard for me.
Last year, I really got it out in this post.


I got a lot of flack for it, by people who think I should "move on" or "get over it."
I have a bit of a news flash for you. When something serious changes in your life, especially as a young child, it takes a lot of time and effort to process and work through.
Basically, for me at 14, it was like a death.
You don't just "bounce" back (yes, that is a movie quote). You CAN'T pretend like it didn't seriously wound your heart or change who you are as a person.


At this point, this year, I think I can claim to be much better. I spent my anniversary driving around old familiar places. My grandmother does not like the word, but I have my own personal definition.
I found closure.
Yes, I was deeply wounded.
They have changed me, made me who I am today.
And, I have accepted myself for who I am.


The wounds have scarred over, for the most part, and I have found a reason to keep my heart alive still. I have finally reached the point of accepting that I live here. That I will be in the United States for the rest of my life, except for occasional itching-feet-vacations.

Yeah, for those who did not know I have hated being here for years.

I am also moving on as far as blaming. I blamed a lot of people for what happened, and mostly myself. I was young and I felt that I could have changed things if only I was better, or done more, or tried harder....or something.
But it had nothing to do with me. Like a pawn in a chess game, I was at the mercy of everything else and could not do much.
I have stopped blaming myself.

When something happens that deeply affects you, it is part of your history. Part of your unique story. Part of your fingerprint. Hiding these things is like hiding an elephant with pink toenails in a cherry tree. People can tell it is there, but they do not have an explanation. Especially, with the people who care about you, hiding things or pretending is a bad idea, and could damage or completely ruin your relationship.
I have begun to talk about what I have been through.
Talking is a healthy thing. Most people are not mind readers.

Lastly, I have been allowing the possibility of forgiveness. Yes, very bad decisions lead to years of pain, dysfunction, and stupid crap. It caused way too much chaos in the lives of hundreds of people. Yes, hundreds!! Every person affects other people, who in turn affect others. No one can repair the damage without humility and sincere honesty. I cannot repent of anything that I have not done. But I can free the other person from the place of anger, resentment, and fear in which I have imprisoned them. They have been pushed far enough away that they cannot cause me pain. I free them to work before God with all their serious problems.

I let go.
And now I wait with open hands.

A Milestone

Tonight, I turn 15!

Poem

11/25/2008



My choice, my consequence,
My destiny
Molded by the hands which created
And love me

My life, my heart to You
Alone belong
Every tremoring, numbered heartbeat
Of my life’s song

At night to You I cry
My heart’s desire
Must be You, and You alone, O Lord
Your consuming fire

Purify me, burn away
All my dross
Let my heart seek and look only for
The foot of Your cross.

*Note: Inspired….slowly, but definitely. The last four lines, for sure!

Monologue

It is late.
I have been up late for a couple nights now... just burning time.
Sometimes I wonder to myself why I am so careless with the only irreplaceable commodity. But then I realize that I have grown callused. In the midst of my search for life, in the day-to-day-ness of completing the tasks set before me-my calling-I have allowed depression to have some parts of my life. It can so easily numb you to things that you don't really want to have to think about right now, or to things you might want to forget.

I don't want this. I don't want to be sitting alone staring at a computer screen looking for some flash of interesting light, a message from a friend, or some random detail of fact or science.

With New Years staring me in the face, I made a vow to go back....the day that changes 2011 into 2012 I will be there. (this has nothing to do with any current trend, or the movie)
Right now that seems like a big goal....and a nearly impossible one, but I know it will be the next step. God's process of changing me has really taught me a lot about me, and about him.

Me:
I really don't like change. I also don't like where I am. I am a stubborn and ungrateful wretch. I am also a reluctant student. But when I finally see I can't wait to learn more. I have never had such a mix of joy and peace in my entire life.

I can know His will. I know it sounds presumptuous, but I am come to realize that when I need to know what to do, He shows me. It is as simple as that. Ever since NC I have been assured of His voice.

Him:
He really had things under control. (Seriously, if I did not have complete confidence that GOD is completely 100% sovereign and in control of EVERYTHING I would probably not be alive today. Without this there is no reason to live. No surety. No rest. And most of all--no peace.)

He loves me sooooooo much. I know it sounds cheesy. I know it sounds cliche. Have you ever allowed yourself to see that it is true? What is love? I still have VERY little idea. I throw the word love around a lot lately. I have decided to not use it any more unless in moments of utter seriousness and commitment. What is love? It is bleeding on that cross.

I matter. Why is this under God? Because I matter to Him. A lot of self-acceptance issues and worries really melt away when you have value to someone. His care for little things so many times has completely floored me. Almost like roses or poems, He reminds me that I matter. That He has special things for me (and only me) to accomplish for Him. Everything I have gone through is validated. It mattered. It affected me. It shaped me (yes, it cut and bruised me). It caused me to look to Him, to look for Him, to cling to Him.

“I cannot endure that the soul should fall back upon aught else but myself with joy and pleasure, so I block up all roads with thorns; I stop up all gaps with hardships, and, lest it should escape me, I strew its way with suffering.”

Hosea 2:14 "Therefore I ....will bring her into the wilderness,
And speak comfort to her...."

It is late. I have been up late for a couple night now....sometimes I am learning, sometimes I am defeated by self-pity and depression. Other nights, like tonight, I know that people are praying for me. I know that there is reason in what is going on and beauty unfolding.
I can trust.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-nJ3GYw11w

Expectations:

But perhaps I should call this post: Standards.

Different ages and societies have different expectations or standards that they impose upon their members. Those who care, but do not conform, live a lifetime of guilt-ridden emotion. “If only I tried harder”. “Maybe if I did this...” “I heard that someone tried this and it worked for them...”

These expectations/standards are not necessarily negative, but they give a culture its unique addition to the diversity that abounds in the world.

The problems come when this diversity is looked down upon within a society. One of the most difficult expectations that I think young women come up against in modern American society is the expectation of size. I am not even referring to the modeling or movie industry (although it is quite plausible that they have added to the stigma of being large).

Throughout my life, I have been larger than most of those who surround me. When I was 9 I began growing to about the height I am now (save two or so inches) and by 11 an older boy from the youth group was calling me a “Mighty Meaty Hotdog” after a TV commercial advertising a larger brand of said foodstuff than had every been on the market. I was a rather naive 11 year old, and I would respond by calling him “Mr. Juicy Fruit” (as in the chewing gum). In being naive, I was spared so much of what could have hurt me deeply in his words.

However, one cannot stay a child forever. I soon became conscious of my proportions as compared to those who surrounded me. I was unsure of how (or what) to change, though. The fact is that I could not change. It was healthy for me to be that size according to how my bone structure and build had been created by God. I was not overeating, and I was eating healthy, wholesome foods.

When I was 14, our family moved o America, and I gained 40lbs in two months just from the diet changes. I was suddenly even more conscious of skinny American girls with make-uped complexions and slim legs. I spent my own money to try to “fix” and “help” myself. I regulated as much as I could think of. I tried my hardest to “be beautiful”.

Then came a day I will remember for the rest of my life. My grandmother, who is similar to me in height, structure and much else was visiting when I explained to her my most recent endeavors to change myself to fit the expectations of my age. She, who had struggled similarly her whole entire life, looked me straight in the eye and said: “Stop it! Stop!!! You will never look like them!! You will never be able to be like them!”. She was weeping as she spoke. She knew what her words would do to me, and she said them out of a pure love for me, and a concern for my future life and well being.

I was not able to assimilate her wisdom, though, and for a couple years still attempted to fit into the standards set by our society. I was not unhealthy, and I did not gain more weight, but I could not loose what I had.

What kind of a society sets numbers as a precedent for beauty? BMI can be ******, and so can scales. How reasonable is it to say “...up to this number you are appealing, and no further?”

It has not been until recently that I have been able to raise my hands to God and say in full surrender: “You are to be praised for creating me how I am”. I am truly grateful for His grace in allowing me to live and use this body that He has given me for His glory. I am fully persuaded that the size I am now is His will. If it were better for me to glorify him weighing 10 or 50 pounds less: then I would not be the size that I am.

“Exercise” does not create a better person. Eating less does not create a more holy person. Weighing only 120 lbs does not make a more beautiful person. It only makes you anorexic.

My grandmother is probbably the wisest woman I know. She has had to suffer much from the expectations of society as a whole and the people who surround her who think they know better than God how large her proportions or how heavy her tread..

And to those people in my life: Go talk to God. Tell him what weight you think He should make me and see if He agrees with you. I am only His bondservant.

soli Deo gloria

Today

The title is actually misleading. because it was today, 5 years ago, that I am thinking of.

5 years ago, I took one last look at everything I had ever called "home."
5 years ago, I left everything I loved that did not fit in my allotted portion of the 70lb boxes we could take on the airplane.
5 years ago, I gave my cats one last hug, and never saw them again.
5 years ago, I turned away, and stepped into the waiting van.
5 years ago, I stepped into an airplane.
5 years ago, that airplane lifted me high up and 11 thousand miles away from all of that.
5 years ago, I lost my heart somewhere in that green-and-white-and-blue ocean and island.
5 years ago, I buried it deep, where no one could find it. Maybe it is not dead, though. Maybe someone found it and kept it safe for me.
5 years ago, I wanted to die.
5 years ago, today, was the hardest day of my life.

Are these wounds healed? Have I found a new life and meaning here in this country? Has God been working in me?
To answer the last question: Yes
To answer the first question: No, otherwise I would not be weeping my heart out as I type.
As for the middle question: I don't know. I have tried to understand and reach out and be acceptable. I still feel like an outsider, a loner, and a foreigner. I have formed some deep friendships. But my roots are still volatile. In shock. Fearful. Distrusting.

Life is never easy. But today, as it was 5 years ago, life is intolerable.

Switch Gears:

Having received word that my blog is "depressing" I shall endeavor to post something that often helps me out of my "depression".

I had heard this song before from the VCD it was originally on. Then, to my utmost heartbeak, the VCD malfunctioned, and now is merely a relic. I had wanted to hear it again....and then I found it on youtube!!!

Blessed Are You-- Paul Wilbur

Blessed are You O Lord our God,
Eternity's holy King;
Blessed are You O Lord our God,
Whose Word brings on the evening.

Bar'chu et Adonai ham'vorach l'olam vaed
Bar'chu et Adonai ham'vorach l'olam vaed

By wisdom O Lord
Heaven's gates open up
With understanding You order the seasons;
Creating day and night
Turning darkness into light
Arranging the stars to Your pleasing.

O blessed be the King
To the Holy One we sing
Lord of Hosts is Your name;
O everliving God rule over us
Now and forever the same.

Pieces

Having grown up in a culture other than the one my parents grew up in, I have a mixture of the two that is the definition of me.
It has been almost 5 years (4 Years 10 months 10 days, and I've lost count of the hours now...) since I left the culture that I grew up in. I have used the language only slightly since then. I keep some parts of it up in songs, thoughts, dreams, and occasional reading of letters that people had/have since then given me. I have felt the steady decline of less-used words. Things don't come as easily, and I sometimes stayed for hours, trying to translate "simple" words that I had completely lost the meanings of. Then, there are the times where random words fly at me, and I instinctively "know" what they mean...and then I begin to question myself. I roll the words around on my tongue, finger the meaning, and try to remember if I was really sure as to its meaning.
Opening my Cebuano Bible is a rare occasion. Every time I do I am confronted with words which I never really understood. I am still somewhat ashamed of how I stuck with the slang, but not that the old words were used that much either. Englisera and mishmash had taken the place of a lot of "functional words". Religious terms thought up/applied by the original Bible/song translators have little normal use in the first place. Almost like a ghetto child would hardly be able to comprehend the meaning of an KJV passage.
Last night, I was suddenly struck with a mental image that I knew I needed to turn into a poem. The problem is, that the image was in Cebuano (don't ask me how, it was), and I could not get the words out of my head. I "knew" but I could not form it into a cohesive word package.

It was then I realised that I was TRANSLATING. I was taking english expressions, phrases, the turn of the words....I was trying to fit them into this Cebuano picture. I could not help but burst into tears. It was like I had lost a peice of myself. I could no longer meld into my other half, the side of me that was brown, with brown eyes and black hair, the side that gets goose-bumps (it had happened) when the temperature is below 65, and others are working up a sweat. Next thing that will happen is that I will forget how to swim!!!!!!!!!!!

Then as I cried, a little voice started coming through. I wrote out the most lovely poem I have ever written. It was a heart-poem in my heart-language (one of them, at least). It came for someone who was struggling. It came from someone who was struggling.

Our struggles make us. Our struggles break us. Our struggles force us to take the little million peices to the foot of God's throne. Our struggles make us say: "Here, You take them, because I am at the end of my rope."
Life is a struggle.

I am in little peices.
Oh, and just an FYI: The poem is not available to read. I often find that putting poems up is a very open/vulnerable thing. When I am dead and my older sister publishes all the bad ones in a posthumous volume, you can look for it and remember.

Psalm 68

¹⁸ You have ascended on high,
You have led captivity captive;
You have received gifts among men,
Even from the rebellious,
That the LORD God might dwell there.

¹⁹ Blessed be the Lord,
Who daily loads us with benefits,
The God of our salvation!
Selah
²⁰ Our God is the God of salvation;
And to GOD the Lord belong escapes from death.


28 Summon your power, O God;
show us your strength, O God, as you have done before.


³² Sing to God, you kingdoms of the earth;
Oh, sing praises to the Lord, Selah
³³ To Him who rides on the heaven of heavens, which were of old!
Indeed, He sends out His voice, a mighty voice.
³⁴ Ascribe strength to God;
His excellence is over Israel,
And His strength is in the clouds.
³⁵ O God, You are more awesome than Your holy places.
The God of Israel is He who gives strength and power to His people.

Blessed be God!

Hosea 2:14

"Therefore I ....will bring her into the wilderness,
And speak comfort to her...."

B-Day meditations

I am now 19, dear blog-readers.

Yes, THE age. What is so important? I don't really know. But for some reason, my young mind always saw 19 as THE age.
I would surely be perfect by 19. (rotfl!)
I would be married, or getting married soon. (hey, little girls have all this planned out right?)
I would be jaw-dropping beautiful (it doesn't hurt to wish?)
and most purely loving. (well....even little girls exaggerate sometimes)




Now, I am 19.

Well...... you can see for yourself!

Overwhelmed

05/30/2009

Overwhelmed

Waves of memories
Come sweeping over me
The town, the shops
The street--
The sound of motorcars
Whizzing by
The smell of dusty,
Traveling feet.


Waving rice stalks whisper
Of the coming rain
The rains reminisce
With the smell of the wind
The cool essence surrounds
The murmur of the sea
Crashing, roaring thunder--
The grating of the sand


Overwhelmed by their power
I, powerless, obey
The rip-tide of their fervor
Sweeps me off my feet
Those waves toss and swallow me
Enfold me in their arms
I, helplessly--joyfully,
Am carried far into the deep.

New Years

These seem to be a repeating post factor on my blog.
(I just went back and re-read my previous "new years" posts)

New Years rolls around again. I suddenly get gripped by a terrible panic in my chest. I NEED the sea, I NEED to be out in the gazebo with everyone, I NEED to see some light-brown faces and I NEED to sing my heart out. I NEED to walk down to the dagat and watch the sunrise while the boys do flips and "karate". I NEED to walk back to the house all light-hearted and looking forward to a new year. Laughing at everyone being sleepy-silly, talking with special people about new year resolutions. I NEED to wave goodbye to everyone in the grey light, go inside, clean up and grab a couple hours of sleep. I NEED to wake up and hear some of the boys compare how little they slept and how great they still feel.....

It is interesting how tradition affects one.
It is hard how tradition pulls.

Psalm 90 meditations

This is not just because of the "New Year", but more what I have been mulling over for a while now...

1 Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations.
2 Before the mountains were brought forth,
Or ever You had formed the earth and the world,
Even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God.

10 The days of our lives are seventy years;
And if by reason of strength they are eighty years,
Yet their boast is only labor and sorrow;
For it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
11 Who knows the power of Your anger?
For as the fear of You, so is Your wrath.
12 So teach us to number our days,
That we may gain a heart of wisdom.

2007

I didn't stay up all night.

I didn't have sugba.....or go out to the beach to see the sun rise.

No actions, and no singing all night with best of friends.


BUT


I did stay up most of the night.

I watched two movies, and cried my heart out to a 14 year old

I was with some friends.


SO


May 2007 be full of opportunities to glorify God

And may He come quickly!!!